


drills

by hatchets



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Steve Rogers, Commander Rogers, Dirty Talk, Face-Fucking, Fantasizing, Implied Consent, Implied Relationships, Kissing It Better, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Dynamics, Quickies, Rough Sex, Secret Relationship, Submissive Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-08 20:38:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12261657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hatchets/pseuds/hatchets
Summary: For someone who hates taking orders, Cap is surprisingly good at taking orders.





	drills

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Beaufort](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beaufort/gifts).



> takes place vaguely at the beginning of winter soldier when cap is working with the strike team and rumlow and yada yada yada
> 
> i'm still writing these apparently

Rumlow talked dirty, almost exclusively when he didn’t have to. In bed he was all hands and teeth, but in the quiet corners of hallways, in emptying meeting rooms, when they were half-hidden from view of the squad, he was a mouth pressed against Steve’s ear or a whisper as they passed between pockets of people, talking filth. It tied Steve’s tongue completely, and Rumlow could tell, and he loved that.

They were looking down rows of computer screens at a briefing, everyone focused on one grand screen, and Steve was taking mental notes when Rumlow turned his head just enough to come within breathing distance of his ear.

"Do you think they'd second guess your authority if they heard those noises you make when you get your ass fucked?"

A ping that was both shiver and resentment plucked in the base of his spine.

“How do you think they’d react if they heard how desperate you were for it, heard the way I can make you beg, all stupid and slutty? What about if they could see you on your knees with your hand on your dick, unable to stop touching yourself, even when someone is using your throat like a pocket pussy?”

Steve had learned by now that any kind of response was encouragement, so he said nothing, and did nothing, least of all look away from the screen. Rumlow persisted anyway, because encouragement was moot at this point. He knew exactly how much he was getting to him.

“Just once," he continued. "I’d like to bring one of them back to your place and let them watch. I’d make you strip and suck us both for an hour straight. Your jaw would get so tired, but you’d do it, because, he wouldn’t know it to look at you, but you get _real_ good and quiet with a dick in your mouth.”

Steve glanced sideways involuntarily, and so did Rumlow. They shared about half a second of eye contact. Rumlow was staring him down, looking for any reaction, and then he was just staring at his mouth.

Rumlow _wasn’t_ just trying to provoke him.

Steve turned around. In the space of a second he'd totally lost track of what was being discussed. It was just the wrong combination of cramped and dimly lit in the room, allowing Rumlow to rest a hand at the base of his back.

“When I was tired of watching you suck dick, then I’d take you by the hair, drag you up onto the bed. He’d see how much you love having your hair pulled, your head dragged back, the way you let me shove your face down into the sheets, and how you arch your back the way I tell you.”

Rumlow ran his fingertips up Steve’s back, and back down, to the base of his spine. The light dig of Rumlow’s fingernails through the shirt made his stomach contract.

“I’d nail you to the fucking bed. He wouldn’t believe how obediently you let me fuck you and how hard I’d fuck you, let me turn you over, fuck you just how I wanted, without saying a goddamn thing. And you _wouldn’t_ say a goddamn thing. Not just because you’re great at playing bitch, but because I know how much you want to get pinned down and drilled, and how much you want my hand around the back of your head, and for me to tell you to spread your legs and shut the fuck up, because I know how your brain works. All these years of command and really... all you wanna do is take orders.”

Rumlow dropped his hand away, and then reached back in front of him, skimming his fingers lightly over where Steve had become painfully hard.

Steve couldn’t keep up his composure any longer, and he didn’t have a clipboard to hide his erection behind, unlike the rest of them. Thankful for the darkness finally, he excused himself through to the doorway, and escaped into the hall.

Rumlow shut the door behind them.

“Happy?” demanded Steve. “Congratulations, I’m missing the briefing. So much for ‘taking orders’.” He ran an agitated hand through his hair and back again, ruffling it, and stopped pacing to turn and glare.

“Sooo should I grab a guy?” Rumlow thumbed over his shoulder at the full room behind them, resting his head against the door, the image of amused indolence. “Or you wanna keep this intimate?”

‘Intimate’ was a storage room, claustrophobically full of crates, smelling somewhat of industrial rubber, the only light coming from under the door and off of Rumlow’s watch, the floor ice cold, and Rumlow’s hands holding fast to Steve's hair as he held him down against the wall, fucking his face. Steve’s pants were down around his knees. One of his hands was reaching into his boxers as Rumlow said “Go ahead, jerk yourself off,”, and the other hand was braced against Rumlow’s hip as if he was resisting. As if he was helpless. As if he hadn’t _let_ Rumlow half-drag, half-shove him in here, strip off his shirt, suck his neck, bite his shoulder, and then pull him to his knees by his hair and shove his dick in his mouth.

“That’s it,” was all Rumlow said, all he had to say, his breath heavy and full of satisfaction. He stepped forward to press his dick down further Steve’s throat, to press the back of his head right against the wall, and started thrusting again, grunting slightly. Steve could feel Rumlow’s stomach against his nose. Despite himself, he half coughed, and half tried to turn his head. Rumlow corrected him with a sharp yank of the hair. He shoved his head back against the wall, and kept fucking his throat as deep as he could go.

The floor was cold on Steve’s knees, his face hot, his blood beating in his ears. He was half suffocated with Rumlow’s body pressing against his nose. He was hard and he was grabbing his dick, doing what he was told.

Rumlow withdrew with another grunt, the tip of his dick resting right on Steve’s lower lip. “That’s it,” he said, lightly panting. “That taste good to you?” He pushed his dick into Steve’s mouth again, down his throat again, and pulled it out again, making him cough. He ran his knuckles down Steve's face almost tenderly, and ordered him in a hard voice: “Suck it.”

Wrapping one hand around the base of Rumlow’s dick, Steve sucked it. He focused his lips and tongue at the tip, making Rumlow hiss, and then taking it deep again, despite the protests of his already bruised throat. He did his best. He did what he was told.

“Mm,” Rumlow murmured somewhere in the dark above him, breathing, “Yeah. That’s it.”

Steve kept sucking him in that much-practiced way, and as he was doing his job, he couldn’t help thinking of Rumlow’s fantasy, of someone they both knew watching him. Seeing him this way. Someone who knew him only from the battlefield, or from the command center, someone who only saw him rapping orders and striding through rent terrain. He was gripping, rubbing himself harder. He could have kept going, could have come while sucking Rumlow’s dick, but Rumlow was pulling his head away now.

“Fuck,” said Rumlow. Holding Steve by the hair, he reached down to jerk himself, pressing the head of his dick against Steve’s cheek. “That's good.

“Get on the floor.”

He got down on his hands and knees, only for Rumlow to plant a hand in between his shoulderblades and shove him down onto his stomach. Rumlow ran that hand up his back to Steve’s ass to pull his boxers down.

Quickly and with no formalities, he shoved his dick inside, in one hard punch. Steve gasped into the floor and ground his teeth together. Without a whisper of complaint.

Rumlow started fucking him hard, no preamble, obviously too geared up to tease him. With every hard thrust Steve flinched against his own arm. He listened to the hard-fucking sounds distantly, as if they were happening to someone else, the noises somehow lost in the small dark space. Rumlow was gripping his hips painfully hard. Steve didn’t say a word. Rumlow buried his nails in his skin, and fucked his ass like he had been fucking his mouth, with no regard for anything but how goddamn good it felt. Through the pain and utter lack of preparation, it felt humiliatingly good to Steve, too, in the pit of his stomach, in his balls, in the ebb of pressure between new thrusts, and he couldn’t fucking help himself. He arched his back up into it, burying his face in his arm and his teeth in his lip.

Rumlow stopped inside of him with a profanity that was more sound than word, and for a second Steve thought he’d come. He glanced back over his shoulder.

Rumlow released his deathgrip on Steve’s waist, reached around instead to run his hand over his stomach and down his thighs. He leaned down over him. Settling his whole weight over Steve’s back, pressing them both down flat against the floor, he met Steve’s face with his own with a little laugh. “Come on, kiss me,” he said.

Steve kissed him, head turned painfully, Rumlow’s dick still buried deep in him, and now Rumlow’s tongue lapping over his lips and into his mouth, kissing him hard and as earnestly as if this were foreplay. “You do like it, don’t you?” asked Rumlow, murmuring around kissing him, slowly rocking his hips to shove his dick just a little more in him. “You like taking orders. You even like taking the orders I don’t say, the way you open your mouth when I unzip my pants, the way you turn your head so I can see your face when I fuck you. You know what I want. You know the drill.” He fucked him a little harder, and Steve groaned, and he did it again. “You know all the drills. That’s what makes you such a good soldier.”

Rumlow wrapped a hand around Steve’s dick. He gripped it hard but robbed it slow, forcing long, suppressed noises out of him. Steve hitched his hips up higher. He kissed Rumlow back, took his dick deeper, and throbbed as Rumlow stroked him.

“Yeah,” said Steve raggedly. “Yeah, please.”

Rumlow buried his face behind Steve’s ear, the place where he sometime liked to rest it and pant “Bitch, bitch, bitch,” as he fucked, and he kissed the side of his neck and said “That’s what I like to fucking hear,” and proceeded to start pounding him into the floor again, his dick ramming deep inside and barely siding out an inch before slamming back in. Steve kept his face turned obediently, panting where Rumlow could see and hear it, and he kept his back arched as much as he could, kept himself spread for his dick, and he felt Rumlow’s hard grabbing hand jerking his dick and he felt himself start to come. Realizing what was happening, Rumlow grabbed and pumped without mercy, and fucked him absolutely relentlessly, to where Steve's pain might have reached a breaking point if he wasn’t coming right through it.

Steve gasped, jerkily, and smacked his forehead down against the floor to ride out those final agonizing strokes. He almost cried. His spine tingled so hard it was as if he had taken a bullet to a nerve.

Rumlow got in a few more hard, concussive thrusts, but couldn’t hold out longer than that. He bit down on Steve’s shoulder as he came. He groaned.He bit down harder as he was coming down, as he was sliding his dick out, and pressing it back in a few more shuddering times. Then he released him. He panted for a long minute on Steve’s shoulder.

Sensation and thought returned to Steve only slowly. He felt wetness running down his thighs. His hot and sweaty skin felt acutely cold against that freezing floor. He pressed his cheek against it and breathed out in exhaustion.

Rumlow rolled off of him. Steve listened to the rustling and then the clinking of Rumlow pulling up his pants and buckling his belt. “It’s really fucking dark in here,” remarked Rumlow, as if he had only just noticed, and turned the flashlight on on his phone.

Small light filled the space, enough that Steve could turn his head and see Rumlow sitting comfortably next to him, looking down with a contemplative smile.

Rumlow leaned in to kiss his mouth, then behind his ear, then his mouth again. He leaned back once more to visibly relish how ruined Steve looked. There was, as always, that post coital look of almost vicious fondness, and amusement of the state he had reduced Captain America to.

“Was that enough for you?” he asked. “Or do you want another? It’s not too late to go pull someone out of that briefing.” Despite the joke, there was a look in his eye that said he would leap at the opportunity.

“Fuck you,” said Steve, wincing, and rolling over. His body was coming back from its mass shuddering and he was already feeling sore tomorrow. This had been a shitty idea. He pulled his boxers up and glanced around for his pants and shirt, which he'd lost even before Rumlow had shoved his dick down his throat. That, too, was sore. His voice already sounded funny.

“Gotta do something about that cough, Cap,” said Rumlow. “When do you think someone’s going to start to wonder why a super soldier is suddenly getting so many throat colds?”

Steve didn’t bother to say another ‘fuck you’, but his glare said it. Rumlow grinned, reached behind him and pitched Steve's found shirt at him. He waited for Steve to pull it on before seizing his head one last time, giving him a long and deep kiss that was usually reserved for mornings. He ran his fingers once through Steve’s hair before releasing him and getting up. “I’ll check our sixes,” he said. “And go first. If the coast is clear, I'll tap on the door, and we’ll rendezvous at oh four hundred.”

“Copy that,” said Steve, in his freshly-throat-fucked voice. ‘ _‘Sir’_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Beaufort I gifted it to you if you're still into this also. I played a bit more with that established relationship idea. Hope u like.


End file.
